


Recruited

by LaneWinree



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Legends: X-wing Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaneWinree/pseuds/LaneWinree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Starkiller Base destroyed and the specter of war looming, the Resistance needs all the help it can get. General Leia Organa sends Poe Dameron to pull three reluctant Rebellion war heroes out of retirement. It's Poe's responsibility to bring Wedge Antilles, Tycho Celchu, and Wes Janson into the Resistance braintrust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Errant Venture

**Author's Note:**

> Recruited is a bit of canon welding between the Legends universe and the film canon, but with some modern sensibility tweaks. Elements of the X-Wing novels by Michael Stackpole and Aaron Allston play an important part in this fic.

General Organa made one thing very clear after Starkiller Base was destroyed: the Resistance was to get the hell off D'Qar as fast as possible.

That certainly made sense to Poe Dameron. Whatever was left of the First Order knew exactly where they were, and they probably weren't happy that the Resistance had just turned their shiny superweapon into a giant ball of superheated gas. Only problem was the lack of transport ships. With the Republic fleet decimated and the government scrambling to maintain order and peace through their sectors, there weren't ships to spare. The Resistance certainly didn't have enough transports. But of course, he could always count on the General to be resourceful.

As the D'Qarian atmosphere gave way to the pitch black of space, he saw their rescue. A massive, but aging, Imperial Class-II Star Destroyer. The red paint on the bow was a dead giveaway as to who had come to their aid, none other than Mirax Terrik. Captain of the Errant Venture. For a supposedly respectable military leader and politician, General Organa certainly had a number of ties to the more… fringe elements of the Galaxy.

Jot down another reason Poe had so much respect for the General. Only she could command the respect of so many disparate elements.

Carefully, Poe set his T-70 X-wing down on the _Errant Venture's_ hangar floor. After carefully going through his power-down checklist, he popped the canopy and climbed out of his starfighter, giving the hull a thankful pat for getting him to his destination yet again. As he strode away from the starfighter he was met by BB-8 with a happy twir.

"Well don't get too comfortable, buddy," Poe said, smiling as he glanced down at the droid. "I don't know where the General is sending us now but this is probably just a temporary stop."

Out of the corner of his eye as he made his way out of the hangar, he caught sight of something that made him stop in his tracks. Three brand-new Incom-FreiTek T-85 X-wings. Now just how had Captain Terrik gotten a hold of these? General Organa had been trying to sweet-talk her contacts at Incom for ages to get a full squadron's worth of them, but they had been forced to settle for older T-70s picked up off the black market since Incom could get more credits from the Republic fleet proper.

"Commander Dameron!"

Poe turned and saw a young man in plain fatigues rushing towards him. "Sorry to bother you, Commander. I've got orders from Captain Terrik to bring you to the VIP lounge."

"VIP lounge?" Poe asked. Right. The _Errant Venture_ wasn't a military warship. It was a smuggler's den. Old Booster probably had a special entertaining venue installed decades ago for his friends.

"Wish I could tell you more," the deck hand said. "General Organa is there as well, so whatever she and the Captain are talking about are well above my pay grade."

 _Probably mine as well,_ Poe thought to himself.

"Lead the way," Poe said, gesturing toward the hangar exit.

For a decades-old Star Destroyer, Poe had to admire how well it had been maintained. This was a ship that was well loved. Clean corridors, smooth turbolifts. Sure, there were a few passed out smugglers and spacers here and there, but that was to be expected for one of the Galaxy's most famous smuggler hangouts. He imagined there had to be a couple fun cantinas on board. He made a note to bring his pilots to one later. They hadn't had a chance yet to toast to their victory. Mourn the fallen.

Shaking his head, Poe filed that thought away. He could take some time to pay respects after he talked to the General.

The deck hand left him in front of the door to the VIP lounge, nestled high in the ship near where the officers' quarters would have been back when this was still a fear-inspiring military vessel. Removing his helmet and tucking it under his arm, Poe depressed the button to activate the door. Beyond was perhaps the fanciest bar he had ever seen. Plush seats, expensive looking furnishing, lighting that belonged more in an upscale Coruscant restaurant than a Star Destroyer. Captain Terrik must have updated this to her own specifications.

As Poe scanned over the room, he saw two familiar figures seated at the bar. Still clad in their flightsuits just like Poe, Jess Pava and Temmin "Snap" Wexley were conversing and already nursing drinks. Poe thought that they definitely had the right idea. The last few days had been rough, and a stiff drink sounded like exactly what the medical droid ordered. Taking a seat next to Snap, Poe flagged down the bartender and asked for a glass of Whyren's Reserve. It might cost an arm and a leg per glass, but by the Force, he had earned it.

"Good to see you, Poe," Snap said, raising his glass.

"Commander," Jess followed up, nodding towards him.

Poe smiled. Losing friends at Starkiller base was difficult, but he was still thankful for those who were still with him. "No one else I'd rather be sharing a drink with."

"Good," Jess said. "You'll be happy to know Captain Terrik is paying for the tab."

Poe grinned. "In that case, barkeep! Make that a double!"

The barkeep placed the drink in front of Poe. Lifting the glass, Poe swirled the drink around the ice before taking a sip of the amber liquid. He let it sit on his tongue for a long moment. It had been entirely too long since had a sip of this. His father had said Whyren's had been his mother's favorite drink. Starting every year from when he had turned eighteen, Poe and his father shared a glass on his mother's birthday. Idly he hoped she was watching from somewhere, proud of what he and his squadron mates had done the last few days.

"Any idea why we're here?" Snap asked.

Jess cocked a brow. "You mean we're here for something other than General Organa and Captain Terrik's good will in covering our bill?"

"Whatever it is," Poe said, "I just hope it doesn't wind up with me being interrogated by the First Order again."

"I assure you, it won't" General Organa said with a faint smile as she walked into the lounge. She was flanked by two other individuals, a woman with dark hair and clad in an old bomber jacket and an older, blonde gentleman. It never seemed to matter what happened to the General. Loss of her planet, brother, son, husband. She always carried herself with power and dignity. It was one of the reasons he admired her so much.

Poe bolted out of his seat, snapping a salute. "General."

General Organa rolled her eyes. "Stop that, Poe." She gestured for the barkeep. "Alazar Whiskey, neat."

Sheepishly, Poe returned to his barstool, nodding at the General as she took her own seat at the bar.

"Commander Dameron, Captain Wexley, Lieutenant Pava," the General said. "Thank you for joining us on short notice. This is Captain Terrik-" General Organa gestured to the woman to her left. "-And General Klivian."

Jess nearly choked her drink. "Hobbie Klivian? One of the original Rogues at Hoth and Endor?"

The blonde man smiled. "Shot down at Hoth and wounded at Endor, yes."

"And wounded at least a dozen other times between Endor and Coruscant," Captain Terrik added. "Sometimes I think all of that was a brilliant ploy to get a bacta sponsorship deal from a Thyferra conglomerate."

"Who says it wasn't?" General Klivian replied.

General Organa held up her hand. "We can continue the conversation after we get through this briefing. Commander Dameron, I have an important mission for you, Snap, and Jess."

Poe glanced over at his fellow pilots momentarily. "Of course. Anything, General."

General Organna nodded and gestured towards General Klivian.

"We need you to head to the Corellia system," General Klivian said. "Near Coronet City are three contacts I need you to meet. They're old Rebellion hands, worked with us in establishing the Republic after the fall of the Empire. We need you to convince them to come out of retirement."

"Sounds like you would be better suited to talking to them than us," Snap said. "You seem to know them better than we do."

Leia cocked a brow. "I'm kind of in the middle of running a war effort."

"She named me interim head of starfighter command." Klivian pointed a thumb towards Leia.

"They never listen to my good advice," Captain Terrik said with a shrug.

"So who exactly are you sending us to meet?" Jess asked as she tapped her glass for a refill.

General Organa looked thoughtful for a moment. "You'll recognize them, I think. The three of you. For security reasons, let's leave it at that. How soon can you depart?"

"Well," Poe said, raising his glass, "soon as I work off the effects of this."

"Twenty minutes, then?"

"Twenty minutes."

Snap finished his drink and set the empty glass down on the bartop. "Damn, I barely put a dent in the open bar."

"You convince them to come back with you," Captain Terrik said, "I promise I'm opening the bar for every damn pilot aboard this ship."

Poe stood and picked up his helmet off the bartop. "Let's get to it, then."

As he, Snap, and Jess made their way out of the lounge, he heard General Organa call for him. "Poe, a moment of your time please?"

Poe nodded towards Snap and Jess, dismissing them to prepare for a long journey. He strode back towards the bar. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Two things," General Organa retrieved a datapad from her vest pocket. "I'm transmitting a list of new volunteers and recruits to you. I want you to take a good look at it in transit."

An odd request, to be sure. Certainly that could wait until he got back, but who was he to argue? "Absolutely. And the second thing?"

"That trio of T-85s in the hangar," Captain Terrik said. "And don't give me that look, you flyboys are all the same. Drooling over the shiniest thing on the deck. I'd advise you take them."

Poe raised a brow. "All due respect, Captain, this is just a blue milk run. We should probably leave those back here in case-"

"You're going to want to listen to the good captain," General Klivian said. "They'll be helpful."

With a nod, Poe turned on his heels and made his way towards the hangar.


	2. Corellia

It had been a long time since Poe had been in the Corellia system. For a lot of pilots, the world was like a tourist destination. The planet had raised so many brilliant pilots over the ages that there was an almost unsaid belief that just breathing in the air imbued a starpilot with luck and skill. Some would say that was baseless superstition. Poe was definitely not one of those skeptics. After Starkiller Base, he probably could use a bit of a luck boost. Force knows he'd burned up a lifetime of luck and more than a few years of his life on that day.

"You know who we're meeting, don't you Commander?" Jess asked over the subspace radio.

"I might," Poe replied with a grin.

"You're not going to tell us, are you?" 

"Of course he's not," Snap said. 

"Sithspit, you know too, don't you?" Jess said. 

"I've got a guess or three," Snap replied. 

Grinning, Poe angled his X-wing towards the Corellian atmosphere. Every now and then he glanced at the navicomputer screen to ensure he was heading to the right coordinates. As they overshot Coronet City, he had to wonder if General Organa had provided the right coordinates. Eventually, a small town appeared over the horizon. Carefully he slowed and activated his repulsorlift as he approached a clearing where several other shuttles, freighters, and ships were parked. Poe set down near a trio of old starfighters; an Incom T-65 X-wing, an RZ-1 A-Wing, and an old BTL-A4 Y-wing that looked like it had been stolen from a museum. 

Once on the ground, Poe looked up at BB-8. "Keep an eye on things, buddy. We won't be long." 

"We hope," Snap said as he walked towards Poe. 

"So where are we going?" Jess asked, pulling her helmet off and tucking it under her arm.

Poe turned and pointed to a nearby cantina. "There's as good a place to start as any." 

The cantina itself was like dozens he had been in before. Somewhat dimly lit, cigarra smoke hugging the ceiling, a mix of young spacers looking for work and old war veterans looking for some self-medication. At the far corner of the bar in a booth were the three men he was looking for. As he took a step forward, Jess grabbed his arm and squeezed so tight he was afraid she was gearing up to rip his arm right out of its socket.

"Poe," she said quietly. "That's… that's… that's…" 

"Now is not the time to fangirl, Testor," Snap said, placing a hand on her shoulder and pushing her forward. 

"But. Snap. That's-"

"Colonel Janson, Colonel Celchu, General Antilles," Poe said. placing his hands behind his back as he arrived at the table, standing up a touch straighter. "General Organa sent us to speak with you."

Colonel Janson's eyes lit up. "Ha, I knew it! Pay up, gentlemen." 

"We didn't make a bet," Colonel Celchu said as he rubbed his temples with his fingers. 

"No, he's doing that thing where he's pretending we made a bet and hoping we've had enough to drink that we'd just go along with it," General Antilles said.

"So you're saying you haven't had enough yet?" Janson asked. "Barkeep!" 

Antilles smacked the back of Janson's head before returning his attention to Poe and his wingmen. "Wexley, is that you?"

"Yes, sir," Snap said with a smile. "It's good to see you again, General."

Poe caught Jess turn and stare slackjawed at Snap. He pointed a thumb towards her. 

"And your number one fan behind me is Lieutenant Jess Pava." 

Jess took a step forward, standing at full upright attention. "Sirs it is such an honor to meet you. I've studied your careers and flight manuals my entire life and I modeled my flight patterns after your historical simulator data it would be such a privilege to-"

Poe gently nudged Jess with his elbow, causing her to quiet and blush furiously. 

"Remember that girl we met on Adumar?" Wes asked. "I'm having flashbacks all the sudden." 

"I could give the three of you a prepared speech, but I suspect you know why General Organa sent us." 

Antilles frowned, picking up a glass of amber whiskey and taking a sip. "She wants us out of retirement. I can't exactly say I'm very keen on the idea, though. I played a resistance fighter once, period of my life I'm not all that eager to repeat." 

"Besides," Celchu said. "If something was truly wrong, the New Republic would have come for us already."

"Certainly you find it a little odd that the holonet is still reporting the communication blackout in the Hosnian system has been caused by a relay platform suffering a power malfunction." 

"Honestly, Commander," Antilles said, brow furrowing, "I know full well I'm not getting the full story from the Republic but I'm trying not to think about it. Enough chatter through the underground channels have told me the First Order did something."

"Our daughters were supposed to report to Hosnian Prime when the blackout hit," Celchu explained. "We haven't heard from them since." 

Poe couldn't help but notice how pained both Antilles and Celchu looked. He couldn't blame them. The majority of the Republic fleet had been obliterated at Hosnian Prime. Anyone unfortunate enough to be stationed there that day wouldn't have made it. Unzipping the front of his flightsuit, Poe reached into an inner pocket to retrieve his datapad. 

"I didn't want to show you this right away because it might come off as a bit manipulative," Poe said. "But I didn't know that they…" 

Shaking his head, he slid the datapad across the table. Celchu picked it up first, scanning over it momentarily before going wide eyed and dropping it, burying his face in his hands. Antilles' face paled as he picked up the datapad with shaking hands, though the look of terror immediately gave way to relief.

"The latest volunteer roster handed to General Organa late last night included Syal and Myri Antilles-Celchu," Poe said. "They were in the Hosnian system, but their shuttle arrived just before the strike from Starkiller Base. They were able to evade the blast and managed to find a Resistance contact in the Borleias system."

"Hosnian Prime is…" Antilles trailed off.

"Gone, along with the bulk of the fleet," Poe said. "But your daughters are okay. And I know they would like to see you."

Antilles tilted his head back and took a deep breath. "I thought I was out of this, but clearly the shadow of the Empire refuses to let me go. I'm in."

"We're in," Celchu said, taking a hold of Wedge's hand

"Someone's got to go keep an eye on Hobbie," Wes said with a shrug. "Got a message from him a week ago saying he'd joined up. Force knows he's lost his marbles if he volunteered  _ before _ us." 

Poe breathed a sigh of relief. "General Organa is going to be ecstatic. We need men of your caliber to recruit and train our pilots. Develop the tactics we don't have." 

"Not so fast," Antilles said. "You have to do something for us." 

Poe raised a brow. "Of course, what is it?"

"Those X-wings you flew in on." Antilles tilted his chin upwards. "Those are the T-85s, right?" 

"That they are," Poe said, casting a sideways glance at Jess and Snap. 

For the first time that evening, Antilles smiled. "Fantastic, I've been wanting to get my hands on one of those for months. You'll be letting us fly those back to wherever we're going. Where is that, by the way?" 

"I think you'll be familiar with it," Poe said with a grin. "None other than the  _ Errant Venture. _ "

Antilles shook his head. "Mirax never could stay away from a good cause." 

"Like we have any room to talk," Celchu said. 

Ten minutes later, Poe was watching the three Rebellion heroes climbing into the starfighters that had ever so briefly belonged to himself, Snap, and Jess. That left them staring at the museum pieces. 

"Okay, so are we going to have to fight over who gets to fly Antilles' X-wing?" Jess asked. 

Poe shook his head and pointed to the RZ-1 A-wing. "No, that's mine. It's been too long since I've flown one of those." 

"And I want that old wishbone," Snap replied. "Never could figure out why mom liked to fly these so much. Maybe I can find out." 

"So, that means…" Jess said.

"It's all yours, lieutenant." 

Jess nodded and turned on her heels, walking towards the old T-65 and climbing into the cockpit.

"She handled that much more calmly than I thought she would," Snap said.

"Wait for it," Poe replied.

The instant the cockpit closed, Poe could see Jess flailing and pumping her fist in celebration. 

"There we go," Poe said.

Snap shook his head. "Never change, Testor. Never change." 

Laughing, Poe strode towards the A-wing and climbed into the cockpit, strapping himself into the flightseat. He placed his hands on the controls and almost instantly, a warm feeling flooded him. Memories of the past, of seeing the stars for the first time. Feeling the atmosphere give way to vacuum. 

"Hope you're proud, mom," Poe said quietly. "We'll get the Galaxy back to where you left it."


	3. Unknown Space

Poe's blissful hyperspace-aided nap was shattered with a violent shake and a painful  _ thud _ as his head slammed into the flightseat headrest. 

"What the hell?" Poe acted on impulse, bringing his sensors online. As he looked up, he realized that he didn't need long range readings to figure out what had just happened.

Looming in the distance was an old, but still imposing, Imperial Interdictor and its bulbous gravity well generators. That certainly explained the abrupt wakeup call. Quickly, Poe shunted power towards the shield generator and took a glance at the forward sensor readout. A dozen red blips were beginning to fill the screen and a look at his targeting computer identified them as old Sienar TIE Interceptors that dated back to the Galactic Civil War. 

"I've either gone back in time thirty years or I'm at the Galaxy's worst Civil War reenactment," Janson's voice said over the radio.

"Sithspit!" Snap cursed. "I'd heard the First Order had managed to find a few of these and haul them out of mothballs, but I didn't think they were crazy enough to venture this far coreward with them. How the hell did they know to jump us here?" 

"You know this is  _ not _ what I had in mind when you said you were here to bring us out of retirement, Commander," Antilles followed up, his voice sounding tight.

Poe began moving power from the engines to the A-wing's twin cannons. "Not quite what I had in mind either, sir. These old birds aren't loaded with warheads, are they?"

"Negative," Celchu responded. "Just cannons, though we haven't exactly fired them in a while so no guarantee they work." 

_ Great _ , Poe thought to himself. "Your T-85s have a full complement of proton torpedoes, but that's not going to be enough to sink that cruiser."

"What do you suggest, Commander?" Jess asked. 

"I-" Poe Started

Antilles interrupted. "Tycho, Wes, form up on me. We're going to make a torpedo run. Wes, take the starboard shield generator and Tycho, take the port. I'll split my salvo between the two. Commander, I need you to provide a screen for us through those Squints. Wexley, stay back and wait for my signal. Once the shields are down I want you to hit the gravity generators with your ion cannons and disable them. As soon as Wexley is underway we are all to provide space superiority. Disable the generators and bug out. Understood?" 

Affirmatives rang through the radios. The instant Antilles gave the order to execute the plan, Poe threw the throttle to full

"On me, Jess! Let's scissor through that TIE screen and clear a path."

"Roger, on your wing." Jess acknowledged

The A-wing Poe was flying may have been thirty years old, but so were those TIE Interceptors. That meant maneuverability and speed were a wash between them, but he had the bonus of having deflector shields. As the distance closed, he could see green flashes from the... what had Antilles called them? Squints? Poe juked the stick left and right to evade the wave of fire but quickly lined up the targeting brackets on one TIE and squeezed the trigger. The red blast hit the old TIE dead center, reducing it to an explosion of durasteel shrapnel. He held down the trigger and swept the bracket through the left side of the TIE formation, causing half the group to veer one way while Jess' identical actions sent the other three Interceptors another. Poe glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the three T-85s race past them and towards the Interdictor. 

"Thirty seconds to salvo fire," Antilles reported. 

Poe pulled around hard and targeted the closest TIE. At least a few of them sensed what was going on and had circled back to go after the newer X-wings. Gritting his teeth, Poe diverted some power from his shields to his engines to close the gap. Carefully he centered the bracket on the TIE and waited for it to light up. As soon as it went green, he squeezed the trigger three times. The first two shots sailed just wide and high. The third caught the TIE in the port solar panel, shearing it off and causing the TIE to spin out of control before disintegrating around the hapless First Order pilot. 

"Scratch two!" Poe said

"Scratch one!" Jess followed up. "Cut them down by a fourth but we've still got a ways to go."

Pulling back on the flightstick to target another TIE, Poe saw a salvo of blue streaks heading towards the Interdictor. Moments later the X-Wings peeled off and sprinted away from the cruiser. 

"Registered hits," Celchu said. "Sensors show the shields are down!" 

"Go, Snap!" Poe shouted. 

In the distance, Snap's Y-wing lumbered forward. While his A-wing could hold its own with these TIEs, that old Y-Wing was only slightly better than a slow-moving target and those First Order pilots knew it. Poe could already see three of the Interceptors breaking off and moving towards Snap.

"For the record I'm still hard-pressed to figure out why mom liked these floating death traps," Snap said tersely.

"Watch your mouth, son," Janson replied.

"Hang on!" Poe said. "I'm coming around to-"

The three T-85s raced past Poe in a straight line towards the TIEs pursuing Snap. Before Poe could so much as throw his adjust his trajectory, the three blips had disappeared off the sensors. Poe was starting to think he should begin hero worshipping these three like Jess had been since she was probably a teenager. 

"Six down, six to go," Poe said. "Jess, flank starboard and I'll move port. Shoot as soon as you have a fix." 

"Roger," Jess responded. Her X-wing peeled hard off his wing. 

Poe's eyes darted between the starfield ahead of him and the sensors. As soon as he saw one TIE break into a wide loop to try and get in behind Snap's Y-wing, Poe gave pursuit. He lined up the brackets just ahead of the Interceptor and squeezed the trigger several times. Four blasts tore the canopy off the Interceptor and pierced the hull clear through. A moment later its' pilot joined their compatriots in Carth Onasi's locker. 

Jess quickly tallied two more kills, leaving the enemy ranks reduced to three. Those final First Order pilots seemed wise enough to sense a lost cause, turning tail and racing back towards the Interdictor for cover. As the cruiser grew larger in his viewscreen, turbolaser fire and flak began to ignite the space around him. Poe muttered to himself as he veered in and out of the way of Snap's Y-wing, the other starfighters providing a similar screen of cover. At the last moment, he peeled off, opening the shot for Snap.

"Generators locked in and firing!" Snap reported. "Generator one is disabled… Generator two is disabled!"

"We are clear," Antilles said. "Punch it, everyone!" 

Quickly Poe angled his A-wing in the correct direction and pushed the hyperspace lever forward. For a sickening moment, he feared the gravitational wells were still activated. Only when the stars gave way to brilliant streaks of light, and the streaks gave way to the molten black and blue of hyperspace did he allow himself to breathe.

***

Poe felt impossibly tired as he climbed out of the old A-wing and landed on the hangar floor where BB-8 loyally waited for him. He knelt down and smiled, patting the droid on the head. "Thanks for taking good care of the General, buddy." 

BB-8 trilled a sound of satisfaction. 

"Careful, buddy. You sound almost as star struck as Jess." 

"I heard that," Jess said as she walked by.

Chuckling, Poe stood and turned towards where the T-85s had landed. Antilles, Celchu, and Janson were already out of their ships. General Klivian had been the first to greet them, and currently was being bear-hugged by Janson to a degree that Poe feared a rib or two might get bruised. As Poe was about to take a step towards the exit to the corridors, two blurs shot across the deck and towards the old Alliance war heroes. 

Two young women threw their arms around Antilles and Celchu. Poe could tell from here that there wasn't a dry eye in that group hug. Smiling, he decided to give the Antilles-Celchu family some space and vowed to get to his order to finally, finally get out of his flightsuit.

A few hours later they were back in Captain Terrik's VIP lounge. She had made good on her promise and opened up the bar to every damn starfighter jockey, retired or not, aboard the  _ Errant Venture _ . Poe made his way towards the bar. After a rather unscheduled dogfight and run in with the First Order, he figured he'd earned a drink. Or five. Gesturing towards the bartender, he ordered a glass of Whyren's.

"And then in walks a Gammorrean!" Janson said from the other side of the bar, surrounded by Jess, Snap, and a few other pilots. "A talking Gammorrean who could do calculus on the fly. You should have seen the look on Wedge's face!" 

"I can't believe he's telling that story again," Antilles muttered, taking the stool next to Poe. 

Poe took a sip from the glass. "Does he expect anyone to believe that tale?"

"They should," Antilles said as he flagged down the bartender and ordering his own drink. "Piggy was a damn fine pilot. And mathematician." 

Poe could only stare, not quite sure if Antilles was in on the joke or if he was actually telling the truth.

"I've been looking over your duty roster," Antilles said. "It's definitely thin, but no worse than I saw in the early days of the Rebellion. Based on what you have now I think you need to organize two units right away. Get your best pilots into a squadron of twelve, and put together a good crosstrained roster into another squadron. Look for a little of everything for them. Slicers, demo experts, commandos. You're going to need space superiority and expertise on the ground." 

"Yes sir, I'll get on it immediately," Poe said.

Antilles shook his head. "Wait until morning, son. You've earned a breather. If I could make a couple personal requests, though…" 

"Of course."

"I'm perhaps a bit superstitious, so if I'm going to be overseeing these new squadrons, I want you to call them Rogue and Wraith squadron. There's good history there. With any luck it'll carry over."

Poe felt taken aback. Those were two squadron designations that had been retired by the Republic out of respect for the history of those units. It felt almost sacrilegious to be handed the proverbial launch codes to that legacy. But if anyone was allowed to bestow that right, it was General Antilles. 

"Yes, sir. It will be an honor to command units with those designations."

Antilles nodded. "One more thing. I'm not stupid, I know what Syal and Myri are capable of. Tycho and I know you're going to pull them onto one of these two squadrons, and as much as the father in me wants to protect them, the General in me knows they need to be under your command. Leia has spoken extremely highly of you. More than anything I need you to prove to me that her judgement is correct."

Poe was silent for a moment, contemplating what to say. "Well, sir, I'd say there's only one person aboard this ship with better judgement than you is General Organa." 

Wedge smiled and raised his glass. "Now that, son, I will agree with." 

"To General Organa and her impossible band of rebels and resistance fighters," Poe said with a grin, raising his own glass and clinking it against the General's.

"To us flightstick jockeys," Wedge replied. "Recruited to keep the Galaxy from falling to pieces."

_ Hear, hear, _ Poe thought to himself as he took another drink. He glanced sideways at Antilles, wondering if that would be him if he were lucky enough to survive another thirty years. Retirement interrupted by war and a Galaxy that refused to stay saved. Maybe some people could look at everything that had happened and be angry, wondering how they seemed to be back at square one. Well, leave those questions for the politicians. Poe Dameron was a pilot, and he was recruited to protect good people from those who wanted to plunge the Galaxy into darkness. 

He'd keep on flying until the Galaxy was saved or he got vaped. Whichever comes first. 


End file.
